Ehhhh.....

A place where nobody dared to go...
Heaven, with tears, and pain once again. I'm tired of surprises. She, she, she...
WHY?!!?
Xanadu doesn't exist at all. I kept trying to tell myself this. I was wrong. You are killing me, you are killing me. My heart hurts so much. Why are you yet another person to reappear in my life, you are all like some sort of cruel purgatory.

Russell Porpoise...

Today I went to see The Last Exorcism, which sucked donkey balls. Very Blair Witch.
Right now I'm laughing to Harland Williams, but earlier I was getting some Olivia Newton John love going. The question is:
Would a little more love make it right?
Are my dreams really hanging out in Xanadu?
I went to a party last night. I was stoned when I arrived, and went outside to smoke more. Then I got roped into shots of tequila. They weren't very big, maybe half sized. I wish I could've stayed a little longer to drain their bar, and forget to have trouble sleeping once more...
Invisibility, I think that would be a swell power. You could do whatever you wanted with it, bad or good. Maybe even a mixture of both.
You could become the truth, no one would know if you were in the room, or on the scene...
You could become vengeance, and retribution. Worldwide, or just in your own neck of the woods...
You could haunt someone, become their worst nightmare. Kill the ones they love and make them pay for having the gall, the nerve...
Personally, I think I would find a way to be an assassin. Kill some high profile people: Kim Jong Il, the Iranian guy whose name I can't pronounce or spell, and maybe Hugo Chavez to piss Sean Penn and Kevin Spacey off. Then take case by case jobs afterward and decide on my own if they are worthy to my personal cause.
Ahhh, to be a shark!!!
But to have a porpoise...
Don't be an octopuss.

Assface...

Have I been showing my ass again?
Worked today, had lots of drama there. Probably going to get some idiot schlub fired who served me a shitty breakfast in the cafeteria. Long story, but an email got sent to the VP of the company which got a response in about five minutes.
Heads rolling and asses handed...
I was supposed to go to some idiot party where they were going to kill two goats, then they were going to do karaoke. Somewhere in there I guess I'm some douche racist for getting sick on some shitty Mexican food, pardon moi, and got uninvited. Like I wanted to go anyway. They also said I complained about how shitty Mexican music is, which it is...
Well, it is!
So I think we were talking about seeing that new Exorcism movie. I bet it will suck, but we will see. Saw Survival of the Dead, it wasn't bad, but the CG was cold and lifeless. I think that's what pisses most of the fans off. Gotta do it right.
Someone give George Romero a decent budget to work with then. Fans bitch, but I don't see them chipping in...
OK, mein little chalupas. Time to check da Bookface.

Flying Fucked-Upped-Ness...

I get knocked down...
But I get up again?
Sadly, I am like Jason. I can't be killed.
Believe me, I've tried. I just don't think it can be done. I drink, I smoke, I masturbate too close to the screen. I even stand with my nuts next to the microwave when I'm cooking a kickass BBQ beef sammich...
So that, just in case, my kids still unborn will be too blissfully retarded to know WTF is going on in this mixed up shithole.
Dark sun rose on the ridge, cut clear across the sky,
As good a day as any to die...
No reservation, madam,
No reason to know why...
Running late, stiletto heels,
Try to cruise, send out the wheels...
Daily, I get no reprieve from the thoughts that torment me so. I get to see where I went wrong, I get to see...
The mess that was created. I'd say by me, but I'm not entirely sold on that point yet. I will say I'm not without fault.
I guess I'm just saying that anyone caught in the wirlwind of my bullshit came there of their own volition. You thought I was sane: I am not.
You thought I was just rolling in the motherfucking dough: I am not.
I will never trust or believe in something that is too good to be true. I can still smell the sizzled flesh from the last time.
I would like to believe you never meant to hit me in the face like this, metaphorically speaking... of course.
When you live on the hopes and dreams of other, and forget about yourself, then at some point you will be thrown to the wolves.
Torn asunder. Where do you go from there?
I do not GET ants, or anything else in the animal kingdom. Is evolution a one way ticket to suicide?
Does our thinking lead us off the beaten path to spiritual enlightenment?
Hogwash and poppycock!!!
You spend your life in preparation for this day,
Breathe in the air, it's loaded with fame...
check out those weapons, sister, before you hit that fray,
String of pearls meet bits of gems...
ENTER THE BATTLE OF THE LENSES...
I want nothing, yet I want it all. I want to want nothing perhaps. Is this a struggle we all yet face?
I pretend to know nothing. Sadly, I know how it all turns out.
Want to know where it all leads?
We live in a cruel world where innocents die daily, yet we couldn't be bothered to give a fuck. Personally, I'm oblivious to it all. You could die in front of me and I couldn't give a flying fuck...
I live to not hear the noise of your dying breath. I live to hear you just not BE anymore.
I also like to project feelings about myself...

TBC...

I think I petered myself out writing all that. Vacation going good so far. Talked to my nephew on Facebook, and friended a few cousins around the world. My dad keeps posting up some pretty kickass pictures on his page. I put a link up on the top right corner of the page to my page.
Page, page, page.
Paging Dr. Douchebag...
I realise my ramblings are not as interesting when I'm sober, but I'm sure that will be remedied in no time flat. I also need a smokie smokie or three to wash it down with. It just seems like the internet is dead to me lately again. I guess I should watch my words because that is usually the cue for my net to go down and leave me hanging.
I watch alot of documentaries and read alot online. And anytime someone poses a question I'm not sure about... I find out. Then I read a little farther back into it. I like to be in the know when I'm talking.
Sadly...
To be continued.

Die-alysis...

Ouch, my liver...
I live in Arkansas, where they don't sell liquor on Sunday. Probably a good thing.
Wonder how this is going to affect me down the road.
Ehhhh, who cares, right?

Kylie Minogue Me...

ehhhhh, kylie minogue me.
please?

The I Don't Have a Picture Post...

So I'm sitting here, right?
Mulling over the bad decisions in my life over a few or more drinks...
Which is worse, gambling or drinking?
At least I'm true to myself with my weaknesses.
Sometimes I feel like the 7th Stranger. A troubador for trouble, a bard for burglery of booteh.
I'm definitely, and easily, a wordsmith. Yet, I'm the Jim Morrison without the star power. Maybe someday...
I'm meant for bigger and better things.
Dare you join me?
Deep, dark piano lines are drawn, the shades are closed. The mental masseuse is now in session...
SING BLOO SILVER!!!

Denial...

I am the ax man... uhhhh, man.
The thing I like the most about myself, although I have MANY faults, is that I can let fly with my emotions and make sense.
Maybe even sway you...
Letting fly is probably the hardest thing to do, because it gives people preconceived notions...
Let alone false ideas where you stand. I can understand how people try to rationalize things they do not understand. I just can't understand how people can go against their core beliefs to justify bringing an end to the means when it means tearing down the shit you grew up supposedly knowing and learning what was true.
I'm just trying to figure out ME, people.
Ohhhh, you're just a fallen hero.
Sadly, in life, many noteworthy deeds get trampled in the mud. they get misunderstood, they get
misinterpreted. People wnt to see what they want to see, rationale be damned!!!
Ohhh no, no.
Ohhh no, no.
Ohhh no, no.
Ohhh no, no.
Ohhh no, no....

I love you guys...

Sift Through This...

Dinner for Schmucks...
The only really funny parts were with Zak and Carell trying to mindfuck with each other. It was more miss than hit for me. I think Zak needs his own vehicle to superstardom. A spinoff of this with Carell, anything. Rudd was lame and wishy washy as usual.
B-.
So I was surfing the net, thinking about all this deep ass shit. Or stonily thinking it was...
Until I finally thought it'd be a good time to share here.
By then I'm depleted. Nothing witty or silly.
It's one in the a.m.
I should be asleep. Just a few more...
Pshwoooooooop. Pshwoooooooooooooooooop.
Finishing off My Name is Earl.
I'm such a wild mofo.
Waiting for the phoenix to arise from these cigarette ashes...

I Just May...

Oh... mah... GAWD.
I have a fucking hangover. And my armpits smell like someone rubbed a Big Mac on them.
Last night I slammed a pint of 100 proof vodka.
Why I did this, I'll never know.
I had a good time, though. Today I signed into my other Facebook account and checked out the 20 year reunion I didn't go to pictures.
OK, just took a shower. I feel better but still...
Something is amiss.
Somebody better get their shit together, because this cowboy is heading out west if it doesn't.

School Spirit Shakes...

Hi, gang. I just got back from seeing Zac Effron in uhhhhh...
Charlie St. Cloud, which I just had to look up, by the way...
C, just for the supernatural element.
So, not sure how long I haven't posted, but what are you gonna do. Sue me?!?!?
I'm covered in bug bites, which I though were fleas, but they were only mostly on my hands and lower legs. I'd always noticed these were the only exposed parts when I'm sleeping.
This morning I was doing something in the kitchen when I felt a tickle on my lower back. I smacked at it and noticed a wetness. It was a juicy mosquito, so I'm guessing he was the culprit. Fucker was living off us, mostl;y my fingers. Well, no longer. You just got knocked the fuck out!!!
My neighbor has a above ground pool thing that he didn't fill, but has rainwater and grass goo in. Idiot is unknowingly breeding those bastards like... mosquitos!!!
I have been spending alot of time watching Flip Schultz comedy, and his character by the name of Skippy Greene. He got knocked out of the tryouts for Last Comic Standing this season, though he told me in a message he'd gotten alot farther in season 4. That's right, friended him on the old Bookface...
I know it means nothing. Heck, when Nick Swardson was putting Grandma's Boy out, he was pretty accessible too. So, anyway, the guy is hilarious. I thought Skippy was naughty, but Flip is akin to a Jim Morrisonesque style comedian. He dares to shock and piss you off some. I like that.
And he has yet to piss me off. Or shock me.
Just don't talk about my mama...
So, me then?
Ehhhhh. I'm doin'.
I think it's going to be me, a bottle of spirits, and a pack of cancer sticks on the horizon tonight.
Just how fucking dark does it have to get before the dawn?
Hmmmm?
I feel like the drowning man that is barely still treading water, but finds his second wind.
Yet it is what it is: a second welling up of strength... to do what?
Prolong doom, nothing more.
False hope.
Right now everyone else's straw seem to be stretched towards mein milkshake.
And they all like to renege on their promises.
I needz to find my metaphoric pair of scissors to snip, snip, snip away the plastic probosci probing at mein main mojo...
Put on that black suit and become the man in black again.
Let this not be another second wind, only prolonging, never relieving...
I can't imagine what hell would be like. And heaven better not be more of what we have down here. Everything is so depressing most of the time. Please, tell me that death ends it.
That I don't just go somewhere else to die over and over again.
I need some high fives in there to muster up enough to continue sometimes.
Otherwise there is no point, capiche?
I wanted to see Dinner for Schmucks today. I fucking ended up with Zac Effron.
How does that work out like that?
My milkshake is empty now, let me borrow yours.
Notice I didn't punctuate that as if it were a request.
That is because it wasn't.
So hand it over, Fuckface.
You too, Obama loving sheeple.
(Sorry, just had to throw that one in there.)

I Just Do...

Yet, there's more...
I secondguess my own motives. I wish I was dead. I stayed over guilt, or what was it?
Dread?
Why does it hurt so much? I hate this part of my life, my death... my undeath...
The change hurts. Or is it my pride?
I wish I could hear from somebody. I have no friends once again...
Ehhh, I probably do, but I can't hear them anymore. I can't hear anything but what I want to hear...
Which is nothing. I can't hear you... I can't hear you anymore. If I ever get back to where I was before I will continue to grind away at, not build upon, what undid me. You hurt me, Martha, more than I've ever let anyone hurt me. It'd have been better if you'd slapped or spit upon my face and just told me to fuck off. When I kissed you, I meant it. Always did I mean it. It hurts me to think you may have kissed me and didn't mean it at the time, like you did it to keep the wolves you thought were at bay...
I bared myself. To you. As much as I could...
I tasted life as you would show it to me. I didn't try to kill it. You could've told me that night that you'd moved out. Was I too late, even then
I get it...
Pain for me, a learning experience. Then why does it feel like I was revenged upon?
Answer in the title.

The Quirky Jerk...

Can you tell I haven't really been AT my keyboard for years now? Right after I started this blog, at a time when I was at a peak...
Physically and almost mentally...
Well, as much as the mind could facilitate...
And so I once again tried to shake off the bonds of my absurdity and rejoin society once... again
I know now that I wasn't in love, I wasn't in love with anyone...
I was in love with what I'd become...
Loved.
Wanted.
Fantasized about...
Now I am the one who lives in fantasy. A fitting demise, perhaps?
No, I refuse this ending. Rewrite, give me a motherfucking rewrite.
To live in a world where I was played isn't any worse than a world where I was the player...
The dabbler...
I'm starting to think you are either a fool, or the fooled. And when I say you, I mean me...
Are we always on the up/downside?
Kicking or being kicked, it is all wrong.
So let's do the move with the quirky jerk. I'm not talking about your date, either...

No, I Said She's Fucking Goofy...

Facebook is the devil...
Vampire Wars and Bejeweled. Waste of time. I saw The Sorceror's Apprentice tonight, it was very nice. I liked it very mucho. I'm tired and I'm going to bed.
The shadows are a'comin'...
Not to mention the bags under mein eyes...

Hungy Like Da wolf, Anyone...?

Leo DiCrapio...

So wow, I've been posting alot recently. Now if only some of it were worth reading...
Got sinus troubles so I stayed home today again. I sat around and watched videos online all day, mostly of Norm MacDonald. I love that guy. I wonder what he is like away from the camera or microphone.
Especially after a few drinkypoos...
I'm not sure if we are seeing Inception tonight, or WTF in general. I don't feel like doing anything in particular other than partaking of this fine herb.
"Ere, want some?
We saw Get Him to the Greek the other day, it was so so. Alot of Jonah Hill taking it up the butt. I liked it, but Russell Brand is a freak and I can't stand him. And P Diddy?
It's kind of like Inception as well...
Everybody in it is awesome except the douchebag playing the main character, Leonardo DiCaprio. Why do people insist on shoving him down my throat?
Fuck off already...

Scar Tissue...

Prideful pride...
Now tearful tears...
Then shameful shame...
Why?

Why?

Why?

The things I used to fantasize about seem far removed. You want to know what goes through my mind? What tickles my fancy?
Revenge. Saying fuck it and leaving everyone but my daughter. Then winning the Powerball. Going to see everyone who done did me wrizzong. Doing my song and dance, then waiting for them to beg me to take them back, or to love them, or to...
I've even had the murdering people I hate dream thang. I remember wishing people dead as a child. It is amazing the defense mechanisms we create to deal with all the bullshit in life we have to go through. Some of these never go away untreated.
I went to an A.A. meeting with my kid. Someone chose to pick on me, call me out. Uncover my hiding place...
Wrong tactics there, bub.
She was right, in the end. I will most likely be alone. I sacrificed so much to be with her, then when it fell through...
Who the fuck does she think she is, Dionne Warwick?!?!?
I'm left with nothing but the things I tried to shirk. Except for one person, the person I've done everything I could for.
I wish I could close my eyes and find myself back... back... back...
1990?
1987?
Clarksburg?
Marshall?
Eldon?
Martha?
Irma?
Lisa?
The womb?
There is no womb in the room. Or vice-versa...
I love how this blog, over time, has turned into a pity party. Love will do that to you.
Sometimes I wonder what strange emotions mein own child feels. I remember feeling burning love even in elementary school. Older girls...
My first nude girl at ten when she was 14, sans intercourse...
Then 6th grade, when I briefly had a girlfriend who was in the 8th grade. Then Lisa, who was in college whilst I was in high school. Then Irma, then that chick post Irma right before I got this jerb. She was the oldest chick I'd fucked for a long time. Thirty when I was twenty...
Sadly, I was actually semi proud of that.
Another woman taking advantage. I also remember a beautiful woman wanting me to whisk her away from an abusive boyfriend. Wanting to use me, wanting to suck me dry, then comes the discarding of the husk...
I wonder if, later, I will be able to decipher, years from now, just what the fuck I was saying here. I wonder if the words I put down are the words of a madman, or just that of the maimed...
The injured...
Mortally wounded?
Ample opportunities. Lack of gumption. The tools I need to fix my life are out of reach, or so it seems. I don't want to be lost, yet I stare off into space. I'm a walking, talking, motherfucking paradox.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen...
I'm sad for us all. Mostly sad for me, but what can you do?
My egocentrism. My masochism. The sadism that goes along with it. My need to control...
To be the conductor, I'm a one man show. I'm like Robin Williams only funny and still sometimes relevant. A revenant...
Am I trouble?
Do I lack a soul?
A.A.'s foundation, their "cornerstone", is GAWD. I cannot, and will not, pretend. I cannot pretend I believe in something so fucking far fetched. I hate life, I hate the feeling that I'm plummeting to my doom. Yet not only am I fascinated by it and drawn like a moth to the flame, it is akin to orgasm. Doom...
Dooooooom.

A Different Corner...

This one is short. I'm missing you tonight.
Why?
I read that he is dead, since Friday. In the ground by Saturday.
I wonder...
Had we left each other alone, would things be different and better?
Would you and he be happy somewhere, wherever, whilst I hadn't stopped to dally?
If this date was slated to be, then I think maybe we would've been doomed anyhow.
Fuck me, life sucks. I seriously feel like a drink. Then another...
Then the rest.
I want you to fade. You refuse to.
I refuse to let you.